This starts Second Lives
The fourth book of Nag Kath
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Chapter 1
Call of the Sea
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As with Eniece, losing Phyll meant time to reflect. He knew in his heart that another long marriage would be difficult. In a curious way of counting, he was still a young man when he married Phylless. That couldn't happen again. One shouldn't know too much for love to grow. Nag Kath had his pick of women who would be glad to try, but this was not an inheritance.
He and Phylless seldom talked about her leaving the circles of the world. She was a confident woman, lived her life and let the chips fall. The vague lore that Elves who died would be be recreated might not come to pass for a changeling such as him. Nag Kath didn't worry either. He did his best with the tools to hand.
It was also a period to take inventory of the greater world. Shur and Eniecia were still fit and strong with growing families. Nag Kath would embrace them but not cling. Haldiera was ten years older than Eniecia, more mother than sister when they were little. She would complete her life in Buhr Austar. Family in Dale had been glad to see him every ten years or so, but now in their fifth generation, he was past influence, as he should be. Great, great grandfathers shouldn't look over your shoulder. He had a creeping sense that there would come a point where an immortal in the world of men would run out of new old friends. Perhaps a wizard or Tom and Goldberry wouldn't, but they were born to it.
What of the Elves? There were still Silvans in the Halls and Lorien. He was interested but never invited. A Nag-Kath grin spread across his face wondering if he should he go to Emyn Vierald after his mourning and woo the lovely Quenda healer. They would attend theater in Dol Amroth and then dance slowly in a club on the fifth before she fell into his arms. No, she had already sailed and could not have been taken from their world any more than Gracie could leave Dale. Presumptuous orcs should know their place! That got another grin.
The Elf had wherewithal. Somehow paying little attention to finances worked. Shurran was 66 and retired from both design and management with son Reyaldar taking the reins in his capable hands. Things in Osgiliath were also in the next generation of control. Both here and Dale had been structured so Nag Kath didn't have to do anything. He would have been a miserable businessman and was never willing to learn. Good men could do that, and they did.
In the world were threats to the King's Peace, threats only he could see. They had behaved, of late. Nag Kath would follow Orlo's hints however far and long they led. Lifeless eyes still stared from the Dead Marshes. Spirits walked the Mournshaws. Only desperate men crossed the Barrow Downs. Orcs prowled the northern wastes. That men in their short lives would not bother with them did not absolve him from the duty, well, suggestion, by his former mentors to heal the land in service.
Nag Kath decided he would sharpen his skills with the militias and go to Dol Amroth in the autumn. That went well. Ten years before, the central Gondor command initiated four training sessions of a week each rather than three, partly because of the difficulty of getting the tall city to efficiently drain its warriors out the bottom. Even so, the days were past when a man must serve on the line in combat to advance in any other occupation. They had to train, and shirking that duty could haunt someone thinking of high office, but many lords of commerce would not have their pampered men-children guarding some miserable border swamp just to earn the patch.
Lord Kath never held a line commission or had so much as a batman. He was staff, and no one, from the King down, knew exactly of what. The sense among the few who truly knew him was that you did not hear until he was done. He rode with the Elendil Lancers and taught a session of Slow Swords for men who wanted to feel that craft in their blood. This year he attended all four weeks on Nemren, a stallion now in his seventh year. A wealthy property owner who dealt with Kathen purchased him from the Lossarnach depot for vanity and never properly trained him to ride in line at speed. When the old boy's gout finally defeated his pride, he sold the animal to Nag Kath. A month with professional cavalry really helped the horse understand what he was born to do.
It was time to travel. Other than the coast of Belfalas, Nag Kath had not seen any of the great sea. Orlo's coin told him, no, hinted, he might find answers south of Harad. There were vast coastal ways in Gondor along the great river mouths and then the Elvish harbors now said to be empty. The way to reach both was Dol Amroth.
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Crown Prince Eldarion was forty three but could pass for a clean-shaven thirty. Like his father, he would marry late. Both were waiting in the King's office when Lord Kath was introduced and shown to the same chairs and low table for favored guests. The King opened, "It has been almost a year. I hope you got my letter."
"I did, Sire. Thank you for thinking of her. Phylless will be with me always. And you, gentlemen? I do not suppose you have heard from the ornery Lord Gimli?"
Aragorn smiled through his gray beard and answered, "I got a letter from him only last month. He and Legolas are at the caves again. It must be Legolas' turn under the mountain."
That gave Nag Kath a chance to ask of the Ithilien Elves conversationally, "Matters must be well in hand to the south."
Eldarion did not betray any secrets in saying, "They are gone to the west, though some returned to the Woodland Realm."
That confirmed Elboron's educated guess. So much for romancing the healer! Nag Kath admitted, "I have not kept track since the business with the pool. My Lords; have there been any more disturbances from the dead?"
Aragorn shook his head before replying, "Nothing definite, but few people go where they tread. It may be well past my time before those lands are attractive. I cannot think what the Easterlings see in them."
Eldarion asked, "What news of Dale? I know you were much of that fair land."
"Still fair, sir. I have two adopted families from Dale. One is now five generations from me. I have not heard in some time. The other family moved here and I am still close to two grandchildren, lo they are elderly with flocks of their own.
"Sire, Lord Eldarion, perhaps you can help me; you said the Elves have left Ithilien. Do you know if they are still in the Grey Havens of Lindon? I thought to travel there, but do not want to trespass."
The Prince answered, "Few if any. The shipwrights have long sailed."
Nag Kath wondered how Legolas would leave. That could wait, "Do your Lordships' vessels ply those routes now? I should think that would be the way to visit Annúminas with the coasts secure."
Aragorn thought long before saying, "Not yet. It may well be a better path, but winds and water are dangerous also, and there are many subjects to honor along the way. Prince Eldarion rode there last year in my stead."
That got the grin, "I am sure you kept your Lord Father's strong pace. By your leave, sirs, I think I will travel to Lindon and learn what I can. After that, perhaps I will explore the coast of Harad. That was a clue from my little sorcerer."
The King chuckled, "Gladly, though neither is of my domain. Give us a full report. Should I see the Lord of the Glittering Caves; we will hoist a tankard for favor in your journeys."
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After the Elf was dismissed, Eldarion stared at his boots for a moment before asking, "Father, he has done yeoman service. Why does mother distrust him still?"
Gazing into space, Aragorn replied, "In Elvish time, he is still too near the peril of old, else I would have said more of Legolas going north. She has the wisdom of an Age and would not have tempted fate as I did. No, son, I fear he is a spirit bound to wander long years. Nag Kath has been a friend to Gondor at great risk and terrible cost."
The Prince considered that and wondered, "But not a true friend?"
Aragorn looked at his perceptive son. Was that how it appeared? "How so?"
"Forgive me, father. I need to learn the old tools. He seems the last of his kind. You have brought him into your service in need, but not in fellowship. Please tell me when you can."
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Eldarion bowed and left the King with his thoughts. Yes, 'not in fellowship'. That word had a special meaning. Aragorn's friends were invited to Lossarnach or at table to commemorate his coronation, places Arwen would be. He thought of that every day when he passed the portrait of himself and his Lady Queen, frozen in mind of an Uruk-hai on trial for his life.
The King sat alone and considered a use for Nag Kath he dared not even tell his heir. Aragorn could feel time in his bones. Losing Pippin and Faramir weighed on his mind. Only the three Fellows who tracked Nag Kath's Uruk-hai across the plain were left. Legolas might live an age. Gimli could last another hundred years. But the graying King would leave his Arwen a widow within a generation of men, two at best.
The Evenstar had bound herself to him in mortal life. Would she diminish? Would she succumb in grief? The King would return her gift! He would have her join her people if she still could. Men could not reach the Undying Lands. They sank or sailed in circles where the shore should be now that the Valar had removed Aman from mortal reach. With the great Mariner Elf Lord Cirdan of Lindon gone, Arwen would need one of two remaining Elves capable of taking the 'straight road' to the Undying Lands.
Aragorn watched Nag Kath's eyes when told the last ship had sailed. The changeling was clever, if not subtle. He did not seem disappointed. It was no secret that Legolas intended to sail west, probably after the Fellowship became legend. Of those two Elves; the one with the silly grin had an uncanny knack for finding solutions everyone else stumbled past.
Yes, Nag Kath; explore the Elvish harbors and tell your King the tale.
And yes, my son; the changeling deserves better.
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Nag Kath and his very nervous horse took the Bounteous for Pelargir to visit Phylless and Helien. From there he boarded the blue-water Maiden's Breath to Dol Amroth. It was a miserable trip with storms coming early this year. Of the twelve passengers, six were green, five held their own and one helped the deckhands tack the sails. Nemren was a poor sailor. Nag Kath brought him along with more than his usual kit because this would probably be a long stay. The Elf soothed the poor animal frequently. Two days before making land, the skies cleared and the horse gentled.
At 65, Eniecia still had her great granna Borenne's timeless beauty. Cal was half Dúnedain and might last much longer. After their children had children they dithered so long considering new quarters that old Captain Ivandred moved in with them when his dear Durnalath died twelve years ago. He was young at one hundred and four, still walking every sunny day tall and strong. Not that anyone bothered counting but Nag Kath was a stripling at eighty-nine.
Caladrion was sixty-eight and now in his sixth year as Minister of Foreign Affairs for the Principality. One would think such things would be managed from Minas Tirith, but the rulers of Dol Amroth thought relations with their neighbors fell in their purview, thank you very much. Their son Field was forty four and daughter Callistra a year behind. Field had two daughters with his wife Grenda. The older girl was Raniece who was twenty and favored her da, not a bad thing for a lass since he had fine features that translated well. She was athletic and enjoyed riding.
The younger girl was Talienne. She was the next Queen Nepthat, albeit it with lighter hair. Just eighteen, she was attracting attention from eligible lads as well. There was no hurry. Like her granna, Talienne liked books and reading but also rode with her sister and Cal or a sharp-eyed soldier.
Callistra married the estimable Phaeron Libron who had achieved the rank of Lieutenant before joining his father's firm. He also managed the property Eniecia inherited from her parents here in Dol Amroth and banked payments from holdings in Minas Tirith. It was not much work since Phaeron had a capable man in their office who actually ran things. Nag Kath liked them both.
Calli had some of Tal's duties as doyen of Dol Amroth and amateur matchmaker, though her raised eyebrow was middling at best. She made up for it with a pleasant smile and charitable disposition. They had two children as well; son Menalgir, Subaltern in the Marines, and daughter Derissa who was thirteen. All four of the grandchildren were considered in the lower end of the top-echelon of marriageable Dol Amroth. They were the direct descendants of King Brand on Eniecia's side and grandchildren of Minister Caladrion, well respected in his own right. Cal was also cousin to the King of Rohan. Being Thain-kin of the barbarous Buhrs did not count for much more than their relationship to the dubious Uncle Nag.
There was more to that than met the cultured eyes of Dol Amroth. Eniecia and Shurran each came into a hundred Florin from their parents' estates. Their children knew that but the youngsters didn't. Most of Eniecia's legacy was in Minas Tirith property paying rents which supported Cal's station. They also owned a few local properties which Field managed.
Uncle Nag hadn't been here since Prince Faramir died. He was still popular, even if the children were too old for groats coming out of their ears. A large family dinner was organized at the Boar and Hare. There had never been boars on the rock and hares ate the gardens. At first, everyone was very cautious around the recent widower but he seemed his usual self and old stories flowed. Captain Ivandred was able to walk down by himself though he and Eniecia took man-carts back up the hill.
The Elf's house was rented after his long absence. Of course, Nag Kath was invited to stay with Cal and Eniecia, but between the couple, Captain and two domestics, it would be crowded with a new resident who did not sleep. He looked for a building near the Commercial Harbor that could serve as home and headquarters for upcoming forays into the unknown.
After two weeks, what had been a business three blocks back from the quayside in New Port was his. Of modest size, the ground floor was like his first home in Dale with one large room, kitchen, privy and spare room for servants. Upstairs was mostly bedrooms but the main room below was open on both floors. He would make the largest space upstairs his library for the books and drawings in their hanging folios. The files in Dale would have to stay there for now.
What sealed the deal was that it was only three blocks from the rare stable where Eniecia kept their horse and in a direct line to her house on other side of the aqueduct. Nemren, glad to be on solid ground, needed better references than Lord Kath. The house set him back five Florin and needed another for repairs. Phaeron knew just the man for the work.
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Cal had a long sip of the pale Rosuldrië wine and wondered aloud, "Let me be sure of your intent; you purpose to travel up the coast to the Elvish Grey Havens and explore? And the King has granted you permission?
"Aye, but he does not control. That is still Elvish, even if they are said to be gone. I would not be surprised if there are sorcerous wards guarding the empty places."
Captain Legorn Ivandred observed, "Pretty cruise, but why not just go with the King to Annúminas and ride over from there?"
"I considered that, my friend, but I do not know the coasts at all, and I may need to. I have other trips planned and ought to be a decent sailor."
Cal shrugged, "I suppose we will learn of those the hard way too. I, for one, don't have any trouble with this. There is a handful of captains who go as far as the Brandywine for Halfling leaf and fine iron craft from the Blue Mountain Dwarves. Lindon is not that much further; thought it is a world away in terms of the company one can expect."
His grand-da in-law said, "If you know of a captain who would like to add bright coin to his cargo, I would like a word."
Cal looked at his father and thought aloud, "Two come to mind. They will not go until next season so you have time to prepare."
Captain Ivandred added helpfully, "Wear your hair back when you get there and hope those Elf eyes see your ears before they shoot."
"I will, old friend, though I think the difficulty will be with the sailors learning of their further destination on the water. That I must leave to the master."
After Nag Kath moved-in and had things the way he wanted, Callistra recommended cook/housekeeper Miss Glynnys to stay the day making breakfast and dinner. A hard-earned forty, she was a tough bird but had a sense of humor. She knew fish.
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The next evening, the Elf walked into the Marlinspike along the Working Harbor, not his usual sort of place. He took a stool at the bar next to a large man with tattoos on his neck and hands. Cal said to ask the barman for a Captain Quaille. A lass not yet eighteen was serving so Nag Kath pivoted on his stool and surveyed the room.
The salty-dog next to him wondered, "Just in?"
"No, I'm looking for Quaille."
"Tall fellow with a sliced ear?"
"Never met him. I was told he could help me with cargo."
The sailor put two fingers in his mouth and whistled in the direction of four seamen playing Dukks. They all looked over but continued the hand. After a slapping his poor cards down, one rose and walked behind the bar laying his forearms on the planks. The tattooed man said, "He's looking for Quaille."
The barman looked the pale blonde over closely, "What's that to you, young fellow?"
"I'd like to talk to him about a commission next season. He comes recommended."
"Long time. He'll be working from Pelargir to Osgiliath until the melts."
"It will wait."
The barman ran a business, "If he shows, I'll see if I can remember to tell him."
That produced a silver and a card. As Nag Kath finished his ale he said, "Part of that includes another mug for my friend, here." The tattooed salt grinned broadly and tinked a fingernail against his empty.
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The map Middle-earth or several of the original LOTR maps will help with this chapter.
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Nag Kath used his time to learn water. He had always owned a small sailboat for fishing in the bay. Phyll wouldn't set foot in it. This time he bought a larger skiff meant for two but could be managed by one in fair seas. Mostly he sailed around the White Harbor catching fish and drawing the island from a distance. When the swells were calm, he took the Wintern around the point trying to hook one of the prized yellow Odar. The third time he took someone who knew what he was doing.
There were things to do in town too. Uncle Nag chaperoned his young females at musical shows, plays and other wholesome entertainments. Sometimes those became less prim when he was coaxed out of his endless supply of stories. The children always thought them fantasy because how could such things happen in the world? Seeing the troll head stabilizing the jetty in Pelargir when visiting Uncle Shurran sowed seeds of honest doubt.
Callistra managed to find a few older females to accompany them. Nag Kath was polite, but not ready. It was too soon after Phyll and he had two trips in mind that might take years to complete, if he survived. Most days, the Elf hiked up to Cal's to walk the flatter streets with Captain Ivandred. Eniecia came with them more than not. Cal worked long hours at the citadel so he got his exercise too.
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In early May, Glynnys answered a knock to reveal a tall, dark man in an oil slicker on the porch. He showed her Nag Kath's card. Since he was expected around now, she showed him in and asked if he wanted tea. In unexpectedly cordial tones he said that would serve.
Quaille waited half a bell until the Elf returned from exploring the healer's district. No one seemed to have replaced the powerful Mrs. Hürna. The Captain stood and the two shook hands. Spotting a prearranged sign, Glynnys remembered shopping and said she would be back about lunch. Nag Kath motioned for the Captain to retake his seat and helped himself to a mug of tea from the kettle.
Without preamble, Quaille started, "Marstairs said you're looking to haul cargo."
"Aye, nothing heavy. I was told you know the north."
"I'm from the Gwathlö estuary. How heavy?"
"Just me. I need to go to the Gulf of Lhün, might be there a month."
Quaille did his sums. The entrance to that waterway was less than a week's travel from the Brandywine with the winds of the season, but that was a large harbor and he did not know it. No one did. Elves were said gone, so why bother since there was nothing to trade? Folk who had tried were repulsed by Elf wards like winds. The closer you got, the harder they blew. He had a sip and asked, "Just you?"
"And anything you want to get on the way back. That is your business. Tell me of your ship."
"An older harrier, built more for speed than hauling grain down the Anduin. Crew of fifteen. That's me, First and Second Mates, the rest on deck and a boy." The Captain had another sip of tea and added, "I don't suppose you know those waters? Elves have not been welcoming. Forgive me but you look a bit green for sail and hard harbors."
Nag Kath pushed his hair behind his ear saying, "I might be able to convince them, if there are any left."
Quaille leaned back on the couch and smirked, "Did you miss your ship? The Blue Dwarves haven't seen a swan leave in sixty years."
"Different family. I'll be coming back with you. There might be things there I can use. It is your business but we'll need a steady crew."
The Captain wouldn't mind a look at those ports. If he had an Elf who spoke their tongue and could get past the sorcery, there might be things lying about that folk with fine tastes would appreciate here. It was time to ask, "Now, we are looking at an extra month out past the Brandywine berthage. I figure that runs to three Florin, making up what we don't carry north."
Nag Kath knew they wouldn't take much of anything up. Ships got things there; wheat from the treacherous Gwathlö, Dunish barley from the Isen, Dwarvish and northern things from the Brandywine. Quaille would know he knew so Nag Kath said, "Two, in gold. Half here, half when we get back. Throw in another nipper if your crew needs convincing after we turn north from the Shire."
"Done and done. We leave in three days. A good faith deposit is customary."
Nag Kath pulled two nippers from his pocket and handed them to the mariner saying, "I will see you then, Captain Quaille."
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The First Wife pulled anchor and eased her way into the outgoing channel of the White Harbor. First mate Forunhir smiled and was friendly but the rest of the crew avoided looking the Elf eye-to-eye. As he would learn later; taking a greenbottom on a long voyage was considered bad luck, not as bad as a woman, of course, but they thought it risked the displeasure of Sea-Vala Ulmo and his servants. Nag Kath reckoned he was strange enough on his own merits. It would not take long to show he had his uses.
The ship kept well away from the silt-deltas of the Ringlo and made for the rocky point off Lond Cobas. In these gentle waters, with enough breeze against to tack, they could keep moving at night by timing the turns. Like most small ships, deckhands dropped two lines with a half-dozen baited hooks at different depths, held well underwater by small stones. When the men weren't working sail or rigging, one would pull the lines in on a winch to check for dinner. After several reels of stolen bait, they got two fair-sized red Odar and a pail of silver tullars.
Nag Kath made another friend almost immediately when he gave the galley cook a supply of spices and herbs. They weren't anything they couldn't have bought in the market but sailors weren't used to such amenities. Only a day or two out, the ship still had stores of vegetables and fruit. Meals would be reduced to hard biscuits and dried fish if the fresh ones weren't biting. The Elf had a supply of Lembas stored in his cabin.
The First Wife was organized a bit differently than a pure cargo run. Men stayed in both the hammock room and in the hold. Sailing at night meant men slept, or tried to, all hours of the day. Quaille and Forunhir showed Nag Kath how to steer by the stars and were helped by his vision. On cloudy nights, the crew knew to stay well away from the jagged shoreline.
Strangely, in any weather the Elf could see the Star of Eärendil in the north, perhaps just because he knew where it would be. Samwise Gamgee wrote that Frodo took the Phial of Galadriel with him to the undying lands. It somehow converted the water of her fountain to shine with kindred light. Nag Kath had no doubt. That water could do great and powerful things. He had never kept any or drank it.
After five uneventful days, they rounded the headlands to the Lefnui River mouth. It was a strong river above a ridge of north/south mountains that kept water from reaching the western coast. The thin harbor stretched fully a day inland if needed against storms. The outermost village was Feren Town. It had ale and meat if you had money.
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The crew was getting used to the tall blonde man. It was clear he had sailed before and could get up the rigging in a hurry. He was not used to the large, triangular sails which had to be rolled and released depending on the wind or that the booms could sweep a careless man overboard. Four days after Feren they reached the tip of Gondor, the point of Andrast where the Drúedain dwelt. Nag Kath kept that story to himself. Sailors are a superstitious bunch and dealings with the curious woodland creatures might be better told after they were well away from those shores.
Captain Quaille sailed half a day past the rocky outcropping before turning due north for the western river harbors. There would be little to eat on land. They caught enough fish not to need the dried meat but the little towns along the windward side of the Andrast Boot would not harvest the first summer vegetables for another month. The crew made the turn into the Bay of Lond Angren, supplied by the raging Isen, ready for a meal and an ale.
Quaille stayed an extra day to provision and repair a rip in the front sail needing removal. Navigating came first but in lulls, all hands had specialties like; sewing sails, rope making or splicing, woodwork and preparing meals. Nag Kath took his liberty to explore the town itself. This was the first natural harbor of the Great Belegaer Sea above Belfalas and the first river bringing goods from the heartland. It was too rough for larger barges but too convenient to ignore. Ships took more than they left behind. Being the slack season before the grain arrived, townsmen were glad of coppers from the few crews docked at the wharf.
The mouth of the Gwathlo (Greyflood) was only two days north and would have been sooner but for tricky winds. They had no reason to go, but Nag Kath arranged for the ship to dock so he could get a look at the wharves. This was just a funnel for the vast flows coming from Eriador, the sort that covered Tharbad every so often. The passenger told them of the homes on pilings that rose like docks. Quaille allowed the men a good night's sleep after the strong barley drinks of Cardolan and they made their way back up the coast to the port of Annon Baran on the Brandywine.
This was a less violent river than the Gwathlo below. If flowed from the King's own Annúminas through the Shire and then meandered to a fair harbor protected from the strong northern swells. To the northwest was the Dwarvish enclave of the Blue Mountains. Erebor claimed lordship, but that did not carry much water with the local longbeards. Their metal-crafts made their way to Southern Gondor by way of traders like Quaille. The Elf financed a purchase of fine iron and steel goods to be collected on their way back.
The crew knew it was not quite Halfling Leaf season so it was time to tell them why they were here. The Captain called all hands on deck and stood two steps on the stern-castle. In his master's-voice, "We are taking Mr. Kath into the Elvish bay to visit his people's home lands. We do not expect any trouble. He thinks we may be there a week but maybe more depending on what he finds. You will all receive at least an extra silver. If anyone has something to say, say it now."
Bosun Thwaindil ventured, "Big place, Capt'n"
Quaille responded, "The Grey Havens, all the way in. We may stop at Harlond for water. The wind will be at our backs inward, in our faces coming back.
"Dildrans, Uvioras, keep the ballista close but not on the mounts. This is a friendly visit."
Seaman Geriandloth said somewhat tersely, "Friendly? Those Elves ain't known for laying out the viands."
Nag Kath offered support, "I can speak to them. All of the great ships left years ago. If there are any Elves, they are not trying to leave. Everyone stays quiet but don't smile, they don't appreciate smiling. Watch for Dwarves on the south bank. I get along tolerably well with them too."
Captain Quaille called, "Tide goes out two hours after dawn. Look sharp."
Slightly into the wind from the west it took eight more days to round the Point of Harlindon into the Gulf of Lhún. Quaille did that at first light so the ship would not be silhouetted by the setting sun. There were no vessels in sight or anything interesting along the south bank. The north bank was twenty leagues away.
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This was a purer natural harbor than even Dol Amroth, ripped from Beleriand in the wrath of Numenor. Strong sea swells would not penetrate far. For the first time on the trip, a light breeze was with them. The First Wife turned the point leading to the Elvish town of Harlond and they set anchor several hundred paces off the old docks, not wanting to trespass if anyone in the grand old buildings took offense. A few figures did wander out to gawk. Nag Kath could see them clearly. They were men, no, there were Dwarves among them too, definitely not Elves. Their Elf told the crew to wave. Townsmen waved back and left a couple lads to watch. They had plenty of water in the casks and food but fresher vittles and friendly conversation seemed a good idea.
In the Doroth Cave tavern a few people scowled and would have nothing to do with the crew but a half dozen Dwarves shared ale and sang a few of the old songs together. From behind him the Elf heard, "Well, if it isn't Stonehelm's bain!"
Nag Kath turned to see Cholas, Dwarf of the exiles from Erebor."
"Cholas! You traveled far."
"We took our time."
"Won't you join us for some of your own red ale?"
The Dwarf and two companions sat and made their introductions - which can take a while since fathers must be acknowledged at the same time. New pitchers were served and Nag Kath said for all, "Thank you for your gracious welcome. This is my first time in these waters."
"Can't say as we get out in the blue often, but the fishing is good." The elderly longbeard worded his next comment diplomatically, "You are just passing by?"
Just as carefully, "Traveling east for a spell. What news of the Grey Havens?"
"That's another place we don't go. You might have less trouble."
Seaman Uvioras took that clue, "What trouble do you avoid, Master Dwarf?"
One of Cholas' companions offered, "Winds - some seem to blow you back. Some go right through. Elvish sorceries of times long past."
Nag Kath let that sentence languish to see if there was more coming. When there wasn't, he asked, "In keeping your feet dry you must still labor busy days. What manner of folk joined you here?"
By now every Dwarf in the room was keeping an ear to the table of sailors and Durin's Folk. Granth, son of Falhand, explained, "Some of our folk make very fine steel from the pure ore of the north-Blues. I will show you a dagger very slowly if you will not take offense."
That was wise. Pulling a knife first would almost certainly be misconstrued. The longbeard placed his dirk on the table still sheathed. Bosun Thwaindil slid the weapon from its scabbard. It was truly superb - more delicate in balance and form than their usual sidearms.
An idea formed in the changeling's mind. But he also knew of Master Golord's production methods and had to allow for time. "Master Cholas, this is a trading voyage. I think the quality of Dol Amroth would fairly consider such craftsmanship. Could you part with a dozen of these with three weeks to prepare?" He quickly added, "I can give you drawings of the fittings and design before we leave tomorrow."
Cholas looked at his associates and nodded gravely before his face cracked into a hearty grin, "I must insist they not be used for cutting beards!"
"Just our own, Master Dwarf."
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The next morning Nag Kath stopped by where he was told to go with several hastily drawn dagger sketches. The blades would be the same as Granth's fine edge but the handles and sheathes had both Elvish and Numenorean elements. A pair of Florin changed hands as well.
.
Business done, the First Wife continued east towards the Lhún river mouth.
That was as far as Seaman Bellandir and his brother Bellandath would go. They kept quiet when told of the trip but after scuttlebutt from last night's ale, telling was not doing. This was an ominous place of the great and terrible. Both quietly took short-swords from the rack and tried to corner Nag Kath on the stern-castle.
Mate Forunhir yelled, "Stand down, you fools!"
Bellandath shouted back, "Nay, mate! This pretty thing isn't getting us dead!" The two men closed on the seemingly unconcerned blonde greenbottom. Quaille heard the ruckus and stormed up from below hollering, "Bellandir! Stop now!"
Without turning his gaze from Nag Kath the sailor shouted, "Stay out of this! We did not sign-on for fell harbors."
As the two crept forward, the cornered Elf lifted his hand. Bellandath was thrown off the deck and suspended in mid-air, head-down over the bay. This was like his dunking of Shelturn but over water himself, Nag Kath was much more powerful. He drew from within as the Drúedain had shared.
"Augahhhhh! Ngh! Brother, help me!"
The Elf told his brother, "Throw that weapon over the side."
Bellandir did. The crew heard the Elf say in the voice of doom; "Do I drop him or bring him back? Choose quickly."
"Aughhhh!"
When his brother didn't say anything, Nag Kath gave Bellandrath a refreshing dip in the bay.
"Bring him back, for pity's sake!"
The changeling seemed to grow in size and darkness. In his echo Elf-Lord voice, "Do you understand there is nothing out there worse than me?"
"Yes, yes! Please, give my brother back."
Bellandrath was gently deposited on deck sputtering and trying to blow the seawater out of his nose. Nag Kath glanced at the faces staring at him and calmly finished checking the fish reels on the transom.
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That evening, Seaman Pellig, who had scarcely uttered a word to the Elf the whole way, said softly, "That was you slew the trolls in Pelargir. My grand-da was in the Guardi Reserve stranded on the Old side of the bridge."
"Aye, just one of them, though. Someone chipped my sword out of his forehead, same sword I carry now."
Pellig said to the night, "That's the half head on the jetty. My brothers said it would get me if I didn't mind them."
The rest of the men were trying not to breathe. Nag Kath thought a moment and smiled, "It was just chance that they dropped it face-out."
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_~ / ~ / ~ / ~ / ~-_
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Mithlond, the Elvish Grey Havens, was still another fifty leagues from Harlond. The fair breeze held and some unknown but delicious fish took to the bait trailing the stern. Quaille brought in most of the sail as they drifted into the circular cove almost completely surrounded by inspiring buildings of the Elvish second age.
There was nothing like this left in Middle-earth. The other great Elvish cities had been destroyed thousands of years ago in wars with Morgoth, Sauron or themselves. Rivendell had similar lines but was more natural, having been built into the mountain. Lorien had very little stone work, relying on the Mallorn trees for its magnificent scale. Perhaps the closest was Annúminas but with more angular, mannish lines. As the sailors were staring, Nag Kath edged quietly next to Bellandrath and asked, "Are you fine?"
The man tensed but did not move. He and his brother could have been cast overboard by the Captain for their attack and now did the dirtiest jobs in penance. But they were alive. "Cleaned my nose out good and proper."
"No sudden movements in view of shore, mind?"
Bellandrath nodded.
.
Quaille had never once shown a trace of nerves. He piloted the ship inside the narrow gap of the harbor and stayed to the middle. Men felt a wind. Their clothes flagged, but the sails did not. Nag Kath shimmied up the center mast for a better look. The buildings were all so grand! It was hard to tell where the headquarters might have been. He decided on what could only be the shipwright's ways. That was conveniently on the western side of the bay so the ship could get away from the wharf with wind. They docked at a stone jetty after setting the heavy, cloth bumpers. Men with long poles could cast off and push away fast.
Only Nag Kath disembarked. He went to a large open door and peered inside. With nothing to see he called in Sindarin, "Good day!" The furniture was still there but nothing else. By prearranged signal, cabin-boy Athmandal was called to follow. He was a brave, curious lad, perfect for errands that did not involve brute force.
They slowly picked their way along the first level of doors, barely above high tide. None showed any sign of writings, or much else. Nag Kath got the sense that men had helped themselves to everything the Elves didn't take, somehow slipping past the dying wards of power.
Looking up, there was a balcony on the second floor of the next building that was where Nag Kath would put his office if he was a Elvish shipmaster. He nodded upwards to Athmandal and they climbed the stone stairs. This room had been looted too, judging by the papers strewn around until rain stuck them to the floor. They were notes in Sindarin, lists of parts and sizes, and not in an elegant hand, either. These were written by workers on a schedule.
Nag Kath was not really sure what he was looking for. This might take a while. The Elf and lad prowled the city for two days while the men nervously fished, repaired and helped themselves to a few items near the ship, always making sure they could leave on the shortest of notice. Against the off-chance there was a safe or hidden door, Nag Kath sketched Elrond's storage locker so Athmandal could keep his eyes open. The lad was downstairs scouring a palatial gathering room while the Elf rummaged upstairs.
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"Orc Six. Fancy meeting you here."
How could they be so silent?! "It is Mr. Norgarn, isn't it? How nice to see you again."
"Hughmmmpf. Are you looking for something?"
"I am at a loss for what. Shipbuilding and navigational charts, I suppose. Are you here alone, Mr. Norgarn?"
"With my wife and bairn. They are keeping out of sight. Your men are strange to them."
Not even all Elves could sense Keepers so Nag Kath asked, "Can they see you?"
"Of course, why else would we need to stay out of sight?"
"Forgive me. It seems others have been here first."
The Elf-keeper said, "Hughmmmpf, ten years ago, men came in a ship. They did not find much."
"Mr. Norgarn I have been looking for a safe like Lord Elrond's, something hidden in the panels."
"You are close. Come with me."
As they walked downstairs past the ogling lad, Nag Kath jerked his head for him to follow. Two buildings further around the circle the keeper took them up two flights of stairs to another office. The papers scattered on this floor were drawings of beams and ship-ribs, measured in the twelve-count of old Elvish.
Keeper Norgarn looked at the boy and asked in the common-speech, "Who are you?!"
"Athmandal, if it pleases you, sir."
"Hughmmmmph."
Three doors down, Nag Kath studied interior panels behind what would have been a drawing table. The seams revealed nothing. Neither did the carved stone frames. There was a cleft in the rock below it, though. He asked, "Mr. Norgarn, I don't suppose you have a key?"
"No."
"Any idea how I get this open?"
"No."
If this was the same kind of stone as in Annúminas, it would take more than a couple Rohirrim with Dwarf sledges. "Mr. Norgarn, do you know what is in there?"
"Never looked." All this was in Sindarin so the lad just watched.
The Elf ran his fingers round the trim of one panel a few times and put his hands on his hips. Then he turned to Athmandal and asked, "Have you seen a big iron key in the last few days?"
The lad shifted his eyes across the room where a ring was hanging in plain sight above the fireplace. The gnome chortled and gave the cabin-boy one of his grimace-smiles before saying to himself in Sindarin, "Yrch!"
The fourth key of five clicked. Inside hinges were rusted tight but the door budged enough to wedge a candle-stand in the crease and pry it open. The Elves must have taken the contents. There was one book in the back stuck to the stone that had not come with whatever had been removed. Nag Kath borrowed Athmandal's deck knife and slid it under the back cover until it grudgingly peeled up.
It was a bound volume, perhaps a eighteen inches square by fully two inches thick, with drawings of different ships and their component fittings. In the back was a folded drawing of Varda, Ainu of the stars, casting her hand to the heavens. Below her, Ulmo of the sea waited patiently, offering his hand in aid. Nag Kath would worry about that later and said to the Elf-keeper, "I know your policy but can I take this?"
"Certainly. That is not in our charge."
"What is in your charge, Mr. Norgarn?"
"Other things. Will you be staying, Orc Six?"
"For dinner, providing you and the excellent Mrs. Norgarn have good stories and are willing to tolerate mine."
"On the walk across from your ship, 'timeless' is written over the door. I am afraid your fellows cannot join us."
Nag Kath and Athmandal took their treasure back to the Elf's cabin. There were no caveats against telling the crew about their curious host so the lad held court over the tasty silver fish of the harbor while the Elf took his meal with the keepers. They arrived after Cirdan left and did not know anything about the shipbuilding here. Upon request, son Gimlach told the tale of Lúthien and Beren very well. Born in the late second age, neither of the older keepers met the doomed lovers.
.
As much as Nag Kath would like to have explored every stone in the Grey Havens; this was not the time to test the patience of the crew, especially after Athmandal entertained them with reports of gnomes in stockings appearing from thin air. The Elf could return with the King someday to Annúminas and take his time.
It wasn't quite three weeks but Master Cholas and his small colony did themselves proud. The daggers were each unique; heirlooms for the right recipient. That was the intent.
.
The First Wife had to wait in port on the Brandywine for eleven days until suitable leaf arrived. A few crates were as much as anyone got at one time so that and the Dwarvish ironworks would serve and might have even turned a profit without the Elf's bonus. Getting home was much easier than getting here since the wind was usually no worse than abeam.
Save a thorough wetting with a summer squall, they made good time and reached Dol Amroth in late August. Nag Kath gave Quaille four extra nippers for the crew bonus and future 'consulting' work before the man set sail for Pelargir to complete that end of the run. Nag Kath thought he had what he needed to proceed. Against that possibility, he retained Athmandal as his next Tumlen. The lad got the spare room, the first time he had ever had a room. He got clothes too.